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  Part 7

  For a hologram with supposedly no feelings, the Doctor seemed almost cheerful as he bustled around sickbay preparing for Paris and Torres. The beds were set up in very close proximity to one another. This way, he reasoned, if something DOES happen, I can get to both of them quickly. The massive doors slid open with a hiss and Kes entered. "Back so soon?" the Doctor inquired as he aligned each table with various hyposprays. "I did not expect your lesson with Tuvok to be over for another half hour." Kes nodded. "It wasn't supposed to, but I left early. I wanted to be here for the assimilation." She leaned forward to examine the sprays. "Aderozine?" He nodded. "Only a mild neural suppressor. Just a precaution. If their brains become too stimulated, we may have a problem disassimilating them. The procedure will be a bit different from the disassimilation in Captain Jean-Luc Picard's case. These Borg have slightly altered their mecha-neural receptors." The Doctor moved over to his console. "It was unnecessary to interrupt your lesson. Lieutenants Paris and Torres will not begin the procedure for another hour." He gave her a dry look. "But they'll be here soon for the prep," she countered lightly. As if on cue, the doors slid open again, and Tom Paris strode through. He looked around the Bay a little anxiously. Where's B'Elanna? he wondered. The Doctor, ever oblivious to the body language of his patients, ushered Tom onto one of the beds. The medical tricorder hummed as it relayed information to the Doctor. "Wonderful. You are perfectly healthy," he announced. "We may proceed." "Gee, thanks, Doc," Tom said. Kes patted his arm with a smile. He didn't even hear the doors open, but when Tom turned around, B'Elanna was surveying the room quietly. "Splendid," the Doctor said. "You're early too." Like Tom, B'Elanna was ushered to a bed and scanned. "Why is he so cheerful?" she muttered. The Doctor turned to beam at her. "I am testing a new program to improve doctor-patient relations," he told her. "Mr. Paris, I am told, mentioned something about my bedside manner needing a little work. So I have created a program compiled on all the data I could find on being pleasant and happy. What do you think? Would you like to hear a joke? Well, it seems that a Telerian on a journey to Algos Prime..." His voice trailed off, and Tom swore he could hear a slight growling sound coming from B'Elanna's throat. Tom grinned to himself. Tom was surprised that B'Elanna had withstood the Doc's stand-up comedy routine as long as she had, but he had the feeling she was nearing the limits of her tolerance when the door to sickbay slid open and Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay entered, escorting Kynn. Finally, thought Paris, we can get on with this and get it over with. Although he wouldn't admit it out loud, he was also nervous about this whole assimilation thing. He was glad the captain and Chakotay would be here to keep an eye on things. Captain Janeway smiled as they entered sickbay. "How are your patients, Doctor?" "They are ready to begin anytime." "The sooner the better," growled B'Elanna, glaring at the Doctor. Janeway approached Tom's and B'Elanna's biobeds. "Are you ready?" she asked quietly. "No last minute qualms? No doubts that this is what you want to do?" "Doubts, Captain?" joked Paris lightly. "I've got a bunch of 'em." He sobered. "But no doubts that this is the right thing to do." Janeway looked over at B'Elanna. "Anything to escape the Doctor's newfound sense of humor," she growled. Janeway looked confused--until the Doctor clarified. "Ah, yes, Captain," said the hologram. "I am aware of the complaints regarding my bedside manner. I have added a program on being happy and pleasant. Would you like to hear a joke?" Janeway looked at Chakotay, who quirked an amused brow. Paris groaned. "Don't let him get started, Captain," he warned. "Maybe later, Doctor," replied Janeway. "Right now, I think we should proceed with the assimilation." Kynn stepped forward. Tom's and B'Elanna's attention was immediately focused on him. He held a pair of devices that looked similar to some of the Borg implants. They were small, about an inch square. "I will place these on your forehead," Kynn explained. "They are a form of neurotransmitter and will help facilitate the assimilation. They will cause you no discomfort." "May I?" asked the Doctor, holding out a hand. Kynn handed the transmitters to the Doctor, who examined them closely. "These are similar to some of my medical instruments. Kynn is correct. They should cause no discomfort. If anything, it should make the assimilation easier for you." He handed the transmitters back to Kynn, who turned to Tom and B'Elanna. "May I attach them?" he asked. They both indicated their agreement. As Kynn attached the transmitters to their foreheads, he said, "When I activate them, you will experience a desire for sleep and will enter a light meditative state. We will enter into the assimilation slowly so as not to overwhelm you. Are you prepared to begin?" Tom looked over at B'Elanna. She was staring fixedly at the ceiling, her whole body tense as a coiled spring. Their biobeds were close enough to allow him to reach out and take her hand in his. Startled, she looked at their clasped hands then met his gaze. Looking into those concerned blue eyes, she felt her tenseness melt away. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Let's get on with it," B'Elanna said. Instead of releasing Tom's hand, as he had expected, she kept a tight grip on it. He didn't mind. Janeway and Chakotay stood side by side watching as Kynn started the assimilation. Tuvok had wanted to have security present, but Janeway had vetoed that, having a strong suspicion that their presence would only have added to Tom's and B'Elanna's discomfort. She had reassured Tuvok that she and Chakotay would be present and prepared to act should their intervention become necessary. Tom felt himself drifting off to sleep, only he was just skimming the surface of sleep, never quite achieving a deep sleep. He was still vaguely aware of the sounds of sickbay around him and B'Elanna's hand clasped in his. He slowly became aware of the Borg Collective. They beckoned to him--nothing malevolent in their intent. If anything, the Collective's overall attitude was anticipatory of this union. Their desire to learn and expand their horizons was addictive. Tom joined them. B'Elanna knew she was resisting going under, still fearful of losing control of the situation, but then she felt Tom give her hand an encouraging squeeze as he urged her in the direction of where the Collective waited. And they were waiting. No rushing forward to assimilate them. They were waiting for Tom and herself to move forward to meet them, like long lost relatives, eagerly anticipating seeing their brethren again. B'Elanna took a firm grip on Tom's hand and stepped forward to meet them. Chakotay, saw a smile crease B'Elanna's face. That, more than anything else, convinced him that the assimilation was proceeding as planned. Paris had a similar smile on his face. Both looked peaceful and relaxed. Chakotay stared at their clasped hands. He noted how tightly B'Elanna had seized hold of Paris' hand. Chakotay winced. Paris would be lucky if his hand wasn't badly bruised, given B'Elanna's Klingon strength. "Everything seems to be proceeding as planned," he said softly to Janeway. Janeway nodded thoughtfully. She had been watching Kynn. He stood between Tom and B'Elanna, eyes wide open, staring straight ahead, his gaze seemingly turned inward. Ever so slowly, a smile had been forming on his face. A smile full of joy and enlightenment. Following the captain's gaze, Chakotay saw Kynn's expression and caught his breath. It was...he couldn't find the words to describe seeing the spark of life burst into being in the seemingly lifeless Borg. He became aware that Janeway had placed a hand on his arm. He looked down to meet her gaze. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said, her voice full of wonder. "I feel as if I'm present at the birth of a new life form." Chakotay agreed, and watched raptly as Kynn was transformed by the vitality of life seeping into the Collective... Part 8 "What?" said Captain Janeway, astounded. "You wish to assimilate MORE of my crew?" "Captain, we are grateful to B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris for helping us begin to learn about being human. Through them, we now have a better understanding of your people. We learned about loyalty, pride, gratitude, and honesty. We did not understand their feelings of love and physical attraction, which seem to be, in their minds, intermingled with..." Kynn struggled for the word, "...doubt? They were both reluctant to let us into that part of their being, and we respected their..." again he struggled, "...privacy." Janeway could feel Chakotay's surprised gaze settle on her. She was glad she could count on him to be discreet. But the
Borg was continuing. "Your crewmen were not entirely honest with us on board our ship, Captain, but we understand the need for the ruse, if ruse it was. They were attempting to save themselves from termination as individuals. We begin to understand why." "However, their assimilation showed us only how much we do NOT know, for we learned a little of guilt, shame, loneliness, and jealousy. Are these universal emotions?" "Let me assure you, Kynn, they are quite universal. ALL humans have doubt and regrets. It is a part of what we are. I'm sorry, but I cannot give my permission for any further assimilations. Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres both experienced some minor physical reactions. They are still sleeping, even now. Our doctor was concerned." Kynn looked disappointed. "I understand, Captain. And even that is progress for us." "Are you sure, B'Elanna? Absolutely?" Janeway didn't want to pressure her, she looked so tired, but she had to know. "No, Captain," sighed B'Elanna, "their transwarp technology just cannot be modified to help us. You've seen how different their ship is from ours. With our dynamics, we'd skip through space like a rock on a pond; even our hotshot pilot couldn't control it. I'm afraid we're back where we started." "Not entirely, I don't think," mused Janeway. To herself she thought, Something has changed. She has changed. But she didn't press any further. Leaning back in her chair, Janeway picked up her teacup and watched B'Elanna over the rim. "I'm proud of the way you handled your away mission. The circumstances were extreme, to say the least." "You don't remember anything at all about the assimilation?" queried Janeway gently. "I remember feeling...well, I don't know how to put it. Surrounded by warmth and caring. I felt safe. Absolutely safe. And exhilarated. There was a presence there. It seemed to be saying, 'Anything is possible. Anything you want.' Captain, the irony of the situation is not lost on me, I want you to know that. That sentient beings would ask ME for help to learn about being human." Janeway smiled. Lieutenant Paris had said almost exactly the same thing to her. And he had also mentioned a supportive 'presence' as well. This could not, then, be put down to chance. But had he and B'Elanna felt Kynn and the Borg? Or each other? "I hope you warned the Borg about the Kazon and the Vidiians, Captain." "They knew about them already. I don't think you have anything to worry about on that score. Go to your quarters and get some rest, B'Elanna. You look like you need it." "Computer, location of Lt. Paris," requested Torres. "Lt. Paris is in Holodeck 3." "Of course. Where else would he be?" she retorted. The computer made a confused noise as her comm badge chirped. "Paris to Torres." "Forget it." "I need to go over some navigational reports with you." "At Sandrine's?" "That's where I do my best navigating. How did you know I was at Sandrine's?" "I know everything." "Then you know I won't take 'no' for an answer. Paris out." B'Elanna hesitated outside the door to Sandrine's. Please, she thought to herself, If there is a God on the other side of the River, don't let there be some big party in there. Sandrine's was empty and dark; no one jumped out at her or yelled anything. She sighed with relief. Tom was behind the bar pouring coffee. "Surprise," he said, reading her thoughts. "Have some coffee." B'Elanna pointed at the several small white cylindrical objects on the bar. "And? Just what are these?" " Birthday cakes. I made them myself." "Those are just marshmallows." "Hey, I slaved over a hot replicator making these marshmallows; don't knock them," he replied, coming around the bar. "Just what are we going to do with them? Throw them at each other?" A ghost of a smile crossed her features. "Keep it civil, Torres. Now watch. First, we're gonna impale them on this transductor coil I straightened out, like this. Second, we're gonna roast them in the fire until their little skins blister and their insides turn to mush. Then we're gonna assimilate them. See? We're worse than the Borg." She couldn't help it. She laughed. "It wasn't so bad, I guess. They seemed satisfied. Do you remember anything?" "I sure do. You jumped up and started singing the Academy fight song. I can tell you, Commander Chakotay was NOT amused." "Ha, ha." B'Elanna took her impaled marshmallow and knelt before the fire. "You know, I've never done this before." Tom made himself comfortable beside her. "I'll think there's quite a few things you've never done before," he said softly. "I could help you out there, you know." B'Elanna could feel a blush creeping up her face. "And just WHAT is THAT supposed to mean?" she snapped. "Nothing in particular," said Tom coolly. "So. Just how old are you?" "Old enough to know better," she quipped. "Young enough not to care?" he asked, eyes dancing. "Don't smirk at me, you egotist." She tried to sound harsh, but she knew he wasn't buying it this time. "You never gave me anything for my birthday." Tom got serious. "I know what I want to give you. I just this moment figured it out." He reached out to touch her face. "But I don't know if you'll accept it or not. It requires a little cooperation on your part." "Tom, I don't think we should." "I don't think we should either, but I still want to." B'Elanna hesitated. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into?" she asked. "Probably not," he said simply, putting his arms around her. "Resistance is futile. Now, let me give you a kiss." Their kiss was warm and full of promise. B'Elanna felt her desire for him blossom like a rare night-blooming orchid. She still felt very unsure, but he was right. Resistance was, well, not futile, maybe. But it sure was difficult at the moment. Maybe later. "B'Elanna?" he murmured. "What?" "You're on fire." "What? OH! My marshmallow's on fire!" "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" "Hey, maybe I like them this way." "I thought you said you'd never had one." "Maybe I lied." "Hey! Don't douse that in my coffee! Stop it, Torres!".... * * * * *